


The Life We Share

by LibraryMage



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Brother-Sister Relationships, Fake Familial Relationship, Fake siblings, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-02
Updated: 2016-08-02
Packaged: 2018-07-28 23:53:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7662043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LibraryMage/pseuds/LibraryMage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tommy and Thea have always had a habit of pretending to be siblings.</p><p>(CW for character death, alcohol, and references to emotional abuse)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Life We Share

**_1995_ **

“Thea’s asleep,” Moira said.  “If you two play upstairs, do it quietly.”

“Okay, okay,” Oliver said, grabbing Tommy’s hand and leading him up to the second floor.  Moira could tell he was barely listening to her, but didn’t say anything.  Oliver was adjusting to life with a baby sister quickly, and he was already used to tiptoeing around the house during the rare times Thea was actually asleep.  He saw it as a game where the object was being as quiet as humanly possible and it was causing him to become quite good at sneaking around.

Once they were upstairs, Oliver put a finger to his lips and beckoned for Tommy to follow him.  They two ten-year-olds crept down the hall until they reached a door at the end.  Oliver slowly turned the knob.  The doors in this old house were loud if you didn’t move them carefully.

“Come on,” Oliver whispered.

“Should we be in here?” Tommy asked.

“It’s fine as long as we’re quiet,” Oliver said.

Oliver led the way to the crib, moving as silently as a shadow.  Tommy followed.  The two of them stood on their toes and peered into the crib.

“That’s our little sister,” Oliver said.

“She’s so tiny,” Tommy whispered.

Thea’s eyes blinked open.

“Oh no,” Oliver muttered.  But Thea, realizing that she wasn’t alone, didn’t start crying.  She smiled when she saw Tommy and Oliver’s faces.

“Hi, Thea,” Oliver said.  He glanced over his shoulder to make sure no adults were passing by who would tell them off for waking her up.

“This is Tommy,” Oliver said.  Tommy waved.  Thea wiggled her hand, trying to imitate the gesture, but not quite succeeding.

“He’s your other big brother,” Oliver explained.  “He doesn’t live here with us, though.”

Thea smiled at the two of them, and for a minute, Tommy could have sworn she looked a lot like he had in baby pictures his mom had shown him years ago.  He was probably imagining it, but in that moment, it was really easy for him to imagine that this new person really was his baby sister.

* * *

 

**_2000_ **

“Tommy!” Thea shouted, throwing her arms around the older boy.  At 15, Tommy was right in the middle of his latest growth spurt and Thea’s head just barely reached his waist.

“Hey, Speedy,” he said, ruffling her hair.

“Hey, man,” Oliver said, walking into the house.  He hugged his best friend, leaning over his little sister to do it.

“Tommy, Tommy!” Thea said, wiggling out from between the two boys.  “I drew you something at school yesterday!”

She held up the piece of paper she had clutched in her hand.  Tommy carefully took the drawing from her, holding it as though it were a priceless masterpiece.

“We were supposed to draw our families,” Thea explained as Tommy examined the five stick-figures drawn in crayon.

They each had names written underneath them.  Four of them were labeled “Mommy,” “Daddy,” “Thea,” and “Ollie.”  But it was the fifth figured, the one with floppy hair next to Oliver, that drew his attention.  The name written under the stick-figure in Thea’s tiny, bubbly handwriting was his.

“Do you like it?” Thea asked anxiously.

“I love it, Speedy,” he said.  “This is going right on my wall.”

Thea hugged him again, too happy for words.

“Alright, Thea,” Oliver said.  “Time for you to head home.”  She’d come with him to give Tommy her drawing, but mom’s driver was taking her straight home.  As close as the three of them were, the older kids sometimes needed time to themselves.

“Can’t I stay for a little bit?” Thea asked.

“As much as I would love to hang out with the world’s coolest five-year-old,” Tommy said.  “It’s probably not a great idea.”

Tommy glanced sideways at Oliver and said “My dad’s here.”

“Yeah,” Oliver said.  “You better go home, Speedy.”

Thea looked back and forth between the two of them.  The way they were talking and looking at each other told her this was one of those things grown-ups hoped would go so far over her head that she would just listen to them.  And it had something to do with Tommy’s dad.

“Okay,” she said, trying to use that tone she heard adults use to let people know they were suspicious of them.

“Bye, Tommy,” she said, hugging him yet again.

“What, no hug for me?” Oliver asked.

“I'm gonna see you later tonight,” she said.

Once Oliver saw that Thea was safely in the car, he turned back to Tommy.  He tilted his head towards the stairs.  Once they were in Tommy’s room with a closed door between them and anyone who might overhear, Oliver spoke.

“Is everything okay with your dad?” he asked.  Most people characterized Tommy’s relationship with his father as “complicated,” but Oliver wasn’t most people.  He knew there were things Tommy didn’t tell him, but even he could see that Tommy didn’t trust his father, and he could feel his friend’s anxiety whenever someone so much as mentioned the man.

“Is it ever?” Tommy said.  There was a strange tiredness in the sarcasm that usually appeared when he talked about his family and his shoulders drooped as he spoke.

“It’s nothing worse than usual,” he said.  “I don’t know what it is, I just don’t like the idea of him being near Thea.  I can’t explain it.”

He carefully put the picture Thea gave him on his desk.

“You know,” Oliver said, looking over his friend’s shoulder at the drawing, “sometimes I wonder if she forgets you’re not really her brother.”

“Most days, I really wish I was,” Tommy said.

* * *

 

**_2007_ **

Thea sat cross-legged on the ground in front of the freshly filled graves.  She was staring at a blade of grass as she twisted it between her fingers.  She jumped when he felt someone’s hand touch her shoulder.  She’d thought everyone else was gone.  She looked up to see Tommy standing over her.

“Hey, Speedy,” he said, sitting down next to her.

She said nothing, fixing her gaze back on the grass.  Tommy put his arm around her shoulders, pulling her into a hug.  Thea felt herself smile for the first time in days as she leaned into it.  Tommy, Laurel, and Oliver were the only ones who ever called her Speedy.

“You know,” he said, “when we were kids, Oliver and I used to pretend we were brothers.  Neither of us had any siblings and I guess we got lonely sometimes.  When you were born, he called me and said we had a little sister now.”

Thea’s eyes started burning as the tears she’d been holding back all day threatened to fall.

“I just want him to come home,” she said, her voice weak from lack of use and her struggling not to cry.

“I know,” Tommy said.  He began softly stroking her hair, just like Oliver used to do when she was a kid and was hurt or sick.  “So do I.”

Thea shut her eyes and for a moment, as Tommy held her, it was easy to pretend she had her brother back again.

“You still have a big brother, Thea,” Tommy said.  “You know that, right?”

She nodded.

“You call me whenever you need anything, okay?”

“Okay,” she whispered.

Tommy gently kissed the top of her head.  _Just like Ollie does -- did,_ she though.

“Promise?” he asked.

“Promise.”

* * *

 

**_2011_ **

Thea was halfway through her second drink, but was still staring into her glass, absently tracing a spiral pattern on the surface of the table she sat at.  She’d gone out to have some fun and get away from the crushing emptiness of the house, but here she was, drinking alone, letting the music flow in one ear and out the other, her mind stuck in the same rut it had been at home.  _Oliver.  Dad.  Mom.  Oliver, Oliver, Oliver._

She was jolted out of her thoughts by someone tapping her on the shoulder.  She turned to see a man twice her size wearing a black t-shirt with the club’s logo in one corner.  Obviously a bouncer.

“Can I see some ID, miss?” he asked.

Thea nodded, reaching for her purse, maintaining a practiced cool expression - one she’d learned from Mom - that didn’t show that she was a little bit worried.  Her fake ID was good, almost foolproof, but she didn’t know how well it would hold up to someone who already seemed sure it was fake before even seeing it.

“Thea!” a voice said from behind her.  She glanced across the room to see Tommy making his way through the crowd.  “I’ve been looking for you all over half the city,” he said as he drew level with her.  “Dad noticed you snuck out.  He was this close to calling the cops to find you.”

He turned to the bouncer.  “Look, she’ll leave and she won't come back, okay?” he said.  “Just let me take her home.  We don’t want trouble.”

The bounced regarded Tommy with even more suspicion than he had Thea.

“Is this your brother?” he asked Thea.

“Uh-huh,” Thea said, nodding.  She wasn’t about to get Tommy in trouble or herself in _more_ trouble by not going along with it.

“Don’t let me see you back here for another few years,” he said, sounding almost bored with his job.

“Oh, you won’t,” Tommy said.  He put an arm around Thea’s shoulders and began leading her toward the door.  He added a quick “Dad’s going to _kill_ you” for good effect.

Once they were outside, Thea pulled away from Tommy.

“Thanks for the save,” she said.

“You’re welcome,” Tommy said.  “But I meant it.  I'm taking you home.”

“Really?” she asked, her voice carrying a challenge.

“Really,” he said.  “I'm sure your mom’s worried about you.”

Thea couldn’t help but laugh.

“Okay, maybe she’s not,” Tommy said.  “But I am.  And I'm taking you home before you get yourself in trouble.”

Thea glared at him.  “Look, I appreciate the help,” she said, in a tone that made it clear that his help was neither appreciated nor wanted.  “But you’re not actually my brother.”

“Well, right now, I'm probably the closest thing you’ve got.”

Thea stared at him for a second, her eyes wide with anger, before she turned away from him and began walking down the street.

“Thea, wait!” Tommy called, running after her.  He caught her arm, forcing her to stop.

“Leave me alone!” she shouted at him, pulling her arm out of his loose grip.

“Thea, I'm sorry,” he said.  “I'm sorry, okay?  I didn’t - I'm sorry.  Just let me drive you home, okay?  Please?  Just this once.”

Thea took a shaky breath, calming herself down before she nodded.  The whole ride to the Queen house, Thea kept her arms crossed and stared pointedly out the window, away from Tommy.  Neither of them said a word to each other.

* * *

 

**_2014_ **

This was only the second time Thea had been back at the cemetery since the funeral.  The first time, she’d gone with Oliver, but had hung back while he talked to his best friend.  She had avoided Tommy’s grave ever since, first trying to avoid anything that reminded her of her mother’s crimes against the city, then avoiding her own inexplicable feelings of guilt.  Those feelings began to creep up again as she approached the headstone.  _If I’d just figured out what Mom was up to sooner…_

She pushed those thoughts away, reminding herself of the truth it had taken her so long to start internalizing.  If she’d had a way to save Tommy, to save everyone in the Glades, she’d have done it.  But she had never had that chance, and blaming herself for that now wouldn’t solve anything.

She stared at the stone silently for a minute as she tried to think of what to say.  How do you start a conversation where you tell someone they’re your sibling?  Her eyes became fixed on the final two words on the stone.  _Beloved Son._   Anger shot through her chest like a frozen spike.  Whose idea had it been to put those words there?  Tommy’s own father had murdered him.  It was because of Malcolm that Thea had to have this conversation with a rock instead of face-to-face.  It was because of Malcolm that Tommy never lived to find out he had a sister.

It had to be for Rebecca, right?  She’d died before Thea was even born, and Tommy was so young when it happened that he only had a few clear memories of her.  At least, he only had a few that he ever shared with her.  But from what Thea had heard, Rebecca Merlyn was a truly good person who had loved everyone, especially her family.  It had to be for her.

Thea had no idea how much time had passed as she’d been standing there, staring at the stone, fixated on those two words, but she figured it had been long enough.  She’d come here for a reason.

“Tommy,” she said.  His name almost felt strange to say, and she felt a pang in her gut when she realized how little she’d said it since he’d died.  “Tommy, I - I don’t really know how to say this, but…I'm your sister.”

As she said it, she could almost feel a weight lifting off her shoulders.  Almost.  She was still carrying plenty more where that came from.

“I wish I could’ve told you to your face, but -” her voice cracked, and she had to will herself not to cry.  “But I couldn’t.  I wish I’d known sooner.  I wish we’d both known.”

She reached into her pocket and pulled out the small stone that used to live in her room, in the pile of beach rocks worn smooth by the sea.  _Flowers are for the living,_ Felicity had said.  She knelt down and placed the rock in the grass in front of the headstone.

As she stood up, she cracked a smile.  “And I guess I'm sorry for all those times I said you weren’t my brother,” she said.

A breeze picked up right them, and if Thea had been a few years younger, she might have believed that she heard Tommy’s laughter in the rustling leaves of the nearby trees.

But she _did_ hear something.  Or rather, she _felt_ something.  Someone else was here, watching her.  She turned around and saw Malcolm Merlyn, standing just a few feet away from her.

“No,” she whispered.  “You’re not - you can’t be here.  You’re dead.”

“Oliver only thought he’d finished the job,” he said.  “We should talk.”

“You are the last person I want to talk to,” Thea said.  The frozen spike of rage had reappeared in her chest.  In that moment, she would have given anything to have Oliver’s bow in her hand, an arrow aimed straight at Malcolm Merlyn’s heart.

“Thea,” Malcolm said.  “You need to at least hear me out.”

“No, I really don’t,” Thea said.

She tried to walk away, but Malcolm grabbed her arm.

“Let go of me,” she growled, trying to pull away.  His grip tightened, his nails digging into her skin.

“Thea, please,” Malcolm said.  For a second, Thea almost believed the desperation in his voice.  If she didn’t already know the kind of person he was, she might have believed his act.  She might have thought that he really was just a father who wanted his long-lost daughter back.  But she knew him too well and she wasn’t going to let him fool her.

“Thea,” he said.  “I'm just asking you to listen.  Please.  I never knew you were my daughter.  Your mother hid that from both of us.  But I want a chance to make up for all the time we missed.  We can still be part of each other’s lives.”

“That’s never going to happen,” Thea said.

“Try to see this from where I'm standing,” Malcolm said.  “You’re the only family I have left.”

“Maybe you should have thought about that before you killed Tommy,” she said.

“That’s not what happened,” Malcolm said, his expression and voice suddenly stone cold.  “That’s what I'm trying to tell you.  I would never knowingly hurt one of my children.”

“Well, you did!” Thea shouted, slamming her free hand into Malcolm’s chest.  She wanted to do so much worse than just hit him.  As much as everyone in her life tried to shield her from it, she knew, just like Oliver and Laurel did, that Malcolm had always been the biggest source of pain in Tommy’s life.

“You killed Tommy!  You killed my brother and now you show up and try to tell me you never meant to hurt him!  Go to hell!”

She finally managed to pull herself free from him.  As she turned to leave, she stopped and faced Malcolm again, even as the little voice in her head told her to just walk away.  There was so much more she wanted to say, so much more rage she wanted to throw at him, so many more ways she wanted to hurt him, but her thoughts were crashing around like a tornado and she couldn’t string together the words for what she felt.

“Stay away from me and my family,” she managed to say.  With that, she stormed away, leaving her brother’s killer behind.

**Author's Note:**

> fic title comes from "Nothing But A Song" by Great Big Sea


End file.
